


Nico Di Angelo's Ramones T-Shirt (Or, Bonus Points for Musical Taste)

by sloblesbian



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 15:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12345696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloblesbian/pseuds/sloblesbian
Summary: where did nico get that ramones shirt he's wearing in the hidden oracle? and can he put it back?





	Nico Di Angelo's Ramones T-Shirt (Or, Bonus Points for Musical Taste)

**Author's Note:**

> since the release of the hidden oracle i have been fixated on nico di angelo's ramones' shirt. where did he get it? does he know who the ramones are? does he like punk music? when did he have time to learn about pop culture? personally, i like a lot of music, but especially old school punk (i'm also called nico, spelled niko though. coincidence???). i even made a mix for nico, combining his theoretical love of punk rock with his unfortunate fashion disasters in the blood of olympus, creating a nice surf rock and punk blend: nico di angelo's summer fun punk mix ([8 tracks](https://8tracks.com/punkrocknitsocks/nico-di-angelo-s-summer-fun-punk-mix), [playmoss](), and [youtube](), for your listening pleasure). this, of course, was all crushed when rick riordan responded to a fan's question with "nico's favorite type of music is techno pop" (or something like that, i'm paraphrasing). this has only brought up more questions. i have attempted to answer them in this short piece.

Will couldn't take his eyes off his boyfriend. Namely, he couldn't take his eyes off his boyfriend's shirt. Nico stood there, outside the Apollo cabin, explaining some detail of necromantic business that, even if his full attention was invested in it, would have flown completely over Will's head. He looked as he usually did-- a cool, five foot three, anemic scrawny 15 year old, or possibly, and Will absolutely couldn't wrap his head around this either, an 80 year old in a 15 year old body. Chronologically speaking, Nico had said, he was born in the '30s. Will was 16 and was born 16 years ago. The majority of his experience with death was when he was trying to prevent it. Or sometimes, when he failed to prevent it. But right now, Will was thinking about not preventing it. He was thinking about instigating it. He was thinking, specifically, about killing Nico's shirt.  
"Dude," -- Will was the kind of guy who could call his boyfriend dude. Nico was the kind of guy who didn't really know what that meant, both the word and for their relationship.* "Where did you get that shirt?"  
Nico wasn't terribly surprised that Will interrupted his explanation of Crowley's Theory of Necromantic Exchange.† It was heavy stuff and maybe he hadn't built a good enough foundation for his case. He also wasn't terribly surprised Will interrupted him about his shirt.  
"Cool, huh?" Nico said. "I found it in a dumpster in Manhattan."  
"You what?"  
"I... found it? In a dumpster? In Manhattan?"  
"Take it off. Burn it. Get rid of it. What the hell, Nico."  
"What? No way." The shirt in question was, perhaps, barely a bit more than the threads that held it together. It was black, because Nico only wore black. And it was full of holes, because Nico found it in a dumpster. It looked like Nico found it in a dumpster. Because he had. Emblazoned across the front in white bold letters was the name "RAMONES". "I know it's a little old but it's probably like, vintage, you know? From an actual show."  
"Unless you pulled it off Dee Dee Ramones' rotting corpse I sincerely doubt it. And even then, probably not. They crank those things out like viruses. Everywhere. Always. You're never safe. Take off your disgusting dumpster shirt and go wash your hands." Nico scowled. Well, Nico was always scowling. Nico's scowl intensified. 

\- - -

The cool thing about your boyfriend being the son of Hades was that he didn't share his cabin with anyone, so when you wanted to sneak in, rifle through his belongs, and steal the most horrible shirt that could ever grace the beautiful flesh of your awful little gremlin boyfriend, there was no one around to tattle on you. It was still light outside but inside the cabin it was dark as, well, death. Will, being ever prepared, had gone back to his cabin, rifled through his own belongings until he found a pen light, and returned. The light didn't illuminate very much, but that was fine. Will didn't want someone to figure out that he was in here. Thankfully, Nico's cabin was just as messy as Nico was. A trunk with Nico's clothes was open at the end of his bed, but Will didn't bother looking there. He kept the flashlight scanning until he saw it, a chair in the corner, piled with black cotton. Holding the light between his teeth, he peeled the shirts off the chair, one after another, until he found the one he was looking for. Much to his chagrin, it wasn't the only one riddled with holes, but it was by far the worst. Satisfied with his illicit treasure, he turned to make for the door.  
"Hello, William," said a voice from the doorway. The light from the summer evening lit the figure from behind, but the shadow from the inside of the cabin obscured his face. This would be a lot more intimidating, Will thought, if Nico wasn't so short.  
"Hey babe," Will said, trying to hide the guilt in his voice.  
"Put the shirt down and walk away."

\- - - 

Like it was raised from the dead, Nico's ratty Ramones shirt hung loosely from his thin frame. Will schooled his face to hide his shock but by the smirk he saw on Nico's, he knew he hadn't succeeded. He quickly steered the conversation to something else, some new camp gossip, the events planned for the day, the importance of skinny pale boys applying sunscreen every two hours, anything to keep from hearing Nico's triumphant bragging. How, Will wondered, had he gotten it back? He had paid an 11-year-old to steal it from the bathroom while Nico was showering, and placed it in the bottom of a trash bag, which he then loaded into Percy's car with explicit instructions to put it back in a dumpster in Manhattan where it belonged. It had seemed like a fool proof plan, a sure-fire way to get rid of that shirt. It wasn't just that it was pulled from a dumpster, Will justified, while thinking horrible murderous thoughts about an article of clothing his boyfriend clearly loved, it was that it looked like it belonged in a dumpster. He wondered if he could bribe the cleaning harpies to destroy it, "accidentally". 

Finally, after listing every effect of skin cancer he could think of, Will stopped talking. Nico took a step closer.  
"So," he said, breaking the lull in conversation. "Do you like my shirt? I found it in a dumpster in Manhattan. Not the same one I originally found it in, though."  
Will choked on whatever response he had been planning to say. He managed to turn it into a polite cough. "Oh," he said, feigning disinterest. "How long did it take you?"  
"Fourteen hours," Nico said, grinning. "You think you can beat me but you can't. Remember this moment, Will. Any time you think you've outsmarted me, just think back to this. I spent fourteen hours dumpster diving not because I love this shirt that much, but because I refuse to be beaten. Nico Di Angelo... does not lose, especially not to arrogant pushy Apollo kids." There it was, Will thought. The triumphant bragging. How he loathed being on this end of it.  
"I guess you're right," he said. "You really outsmarted me. I thought I had you good, but I was wrong."  
"Yeah," Nico agreed. With the face he was making right now, he could have been a model for some terrible villain in a children's story. "You were." 

Will was glad they weren't outside the Apollo cabin right then. Too many people around. Even once they had accepted Nico, people still avoided the Hades cabin. Nice, quiet, and perfect. "I guess," Will said, his voice dropping into what he thought of as a suave tone, "I just have to admit defeat." He was glad he was taller than Nico.  
In a smooth motion, he closed the distance between them, and pressed his hand against the small of Nico's back. Nico looked up at him, his eyes tracing Will's, in the moment before he drew their faces together. One could imagine, Will thought, in the shadow behind the Hades cabin, that after so much time spent kissing his boyfriend, it would grow routine, boring, predictable. It didn't, but if it had, the taste of victory certainly would keep things interesting. Nico was probably feeling the same way, Will mused. He moved his hand under Nico's shirt— his awful, horrible shirt— and Nico inhaled deeply, his cold skin reacting to the warmth of Will's. He tipped his head back and Will kissed him along his jaw, moving down his neck, his hands on Nico's ribcage now. Then, as quickly and as fluidly as he had started, Will stepped backwards, bringing Nico's shirt with him. For a moment, he struggled, caught inside the t-shirt. Nico had the advantage of having the shirt actually on his body, and it was not easy to get off without his help, but thankfully, Will's superior height did most of the work. As soon as the shirt released the last of the scrawny teenage boy from its grasp, Will took off running, Nico, after a moment of shock, on his heels. The fire at the middle of the pavilion was burning, as always, and Will headed straight towards it.  
Realizing defeat— true defeat, Will thought, satisfaction seeping into his bones— and what he intended to do, a pained howl escaped from Nico. "No!" he yelled from behind him.  
"Sorry Dad!" Will shouted, balling up the shirt and tossing it into the fire. The fire consumed it, hungry as ever. A cloud passed over the sun.  
Will turned to see his boyfriend standing behind him, hands on his knees, panting. He was shirtless from the waist up, his ribcage clearly visible through his skin, his jeans cinched around his waist by a cheap belt. This was the villain at the end of the story, when the heroes have won, Will thought. He put both hands in the air, arms extended above his head, a clear sign of victory. He did it. He won. He beat Nico "Fourteen Hours in a Dumpster" Di Angelo.  
"Now who won, huh?" Will dropped his arms to his side. "Arrogant, I'll show you arrogant. No, you remember *this* moment, Nico. Nico? Where you going? Babe?"

**Author's Note:**

> * i'm actually fairly certain nico would know the word dude— it's been in use since the 19th century at least, though it used to be synonymous with the word dandy. however i liked this line, inaccurate though it is, so i kept it.
> 
> † 'Crowley's Theory of Necromantic Exchange' is not a real thing, in case you were wondering. i made it up.
> 
> ‡ is will's full name william? who knows. actually i think it's funnier if it's not. my brother, for example, is named alex, not alexander, and i think it's hilarious to refer to him as alexander. no one agrees with me but i do it anyway.


End file.
